


A Mismatch of Intentions

by Downfall



Series: Prophet and Harbinger [3]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Dragon Age Kink Meme, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-30
Updated: 2011-05-30
Packaged: 2017-10-19 22:11:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Downfall/pseuds/Downfall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anora gets some much-needed relief. Alyna gets something else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mismatch of Intentions

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from the Dragon Age kink meme.

“My queen? The Grey Warden has arrived for you.”

Anora looked up from her writing, carefully putting her pen aside. It was the fifth draft of her letter to Empress Celene; for once her words were failing her. _Dear Orlesian, thank you kindly for the deployment of Wardens to Amaranthine. We appreciate your efforts to help Ferelden in our time of rebuilding. Now get out of my country and never come back._ It somehow lacked the flowery prose requisite in diplomatic communication.

“Bring her in, Ser Cauthrien.” Anora stood and smoothed the wrinkles from her gown. Cauthrien bowed and backed out, and a moment later ushered Alyna Surana in. The elf was not now the same woman who had rescued Anora from Arl Howe’s estate, and _certainly_ not the same woman who meekly agreed to allow Anora to retain her throne and banish Alistair. Her spine was straight and when she met Anora’s eye it sent a shiver right down to her feet.

“Warden, thank you for coming so quickly. We’ve a situation brewing in the north, and I must call on your services again.” The mage glanced around the room, and seated herself upon Anora’s seat at the writing desk. Anora scowled at the impertinence, but continued. “The Orlesians have seen fit to send a detachment of Wardens to Ferelden. I had granted Vigil Keep to the Wardens as an organization, but I had anticipated that it would be used by _Ferelden_ Wardens. As it stands, we now have a substantial force of Orlesians camped within striking distance of Amaranthine.”

Alyna shrugged. “What am I to do about it?”

“I want you to take command of the Grey Wardens at Vigil’s Keep. The Hero of Ferelden would be ideal, but _he_ can’t enter the country on pain of death. Failing that though, I want someone loyal to the crown.”

A ghost of a smile crossed Alyna’s lips. “So you chose me?”

“Do you know of any other Wardens of Ferelden birth?” Anora snapped. The _insolence_ of this woman! “I would have to grant you the title of Arlessa of Amaranthine to solidify your position.”

The elf thought about it for a moment. Then, with a shake of her head, “No.”

“’No?’” Anora repeated, incredulous. “I am offering you a noble title, something that one of your kind could _never_ hope to gain under any other circumstance.”

“My kind?” Alyna stood; the smile had faded, but a glint of amusement lingered in her eyes and for the life of her Anora couldn’t understand what she was thinking. “Which would that be? Elf, or mage?”

“Either,” Anora gritted out between clenched teeth. “Well? If your duty as a Warden and your duty to your country are insufficient to motivate you, what will?”

The elf answered immediately. “I want possession of Soldier’s Peak.”

“The Peak was returned to the Wardens when King Maric allowe-”

“No,” Alyna interrupted to Anora’s astonishment. “Not the Wardens. I want Soldier’s Peak granted to me, personally.”

Anora gaped. “The _audacity_ …who do you believe you’re speaking with?”

“Someone who has no other options,” Alyna answered easily, rising to her feet and stepping close to Anora. “Someone who is going to give me what I want.”

Before she realized what she was doing Anora drew her hand back and slapped the elf across the cheek, hard enough to stagger the smaller woman. Alyna touched her cheek and straightened. “You…are infuriating,” Anora said lowly, drawing close.

Alyna just smiled and leaned into Anora, gracing her lips lightly across the queen’s. Anora froze, not letting herself react. What did the mage know? How did she _know_?

“There are rumors that you are barren,” Alyna whispered, deliberately keeping herself close to Anora. “That Cailan planned to divorce you because you couldn’t bear him an heir.”

Anora felt her heart thud in her chest. “It’s true that there was a…mismatch of intentions.”

“I believe the thought of laying with him disquieted you,” Alyna stood on her toes to whisper in the queen’s ear, her hot breath sending shivers through her. “I think that you had great difficulty doing your _duty_ as queen.” The elf kissed her again and impulsively Anora let her hands reach up, clutching at the smaller woman’s arms.

Breathlessly Anora broke the embrace, and slapped the mage again. “You _dare_ -” This time Alyna didn’t smile; she wound up and drove her knuckles straight between Anora’s eyes. Anora reeled, stars flashing across her vision, and Alyna caught her before she could fall. The elf straddled her, hands working quickly at the fastens of Anora’s dress and the bodice beneath. A fleeting thought that she should at least protest the handling of her person passed through her mind, but Alyna found her nipple and all thoughts left Anora’s mind in a moment. Alyna bit into the tender skin of the underside of Anora’s breast eliciting a gasp.

“I dare,” she said with that smile. She climbed off and seated herself with her back to the wall, legs spread lewdly and robes drawn up to reveal her utter lack of small clothes. “But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you couldn’t figure out how to please Cailan.”

Anora snarled and rolled onto her hands and knees, crawling to the elf. The taunts nettled her and she reached between Alyna’s legs, finding the small, wet nub of flesh and rubbing it quickly. “I’ll wipe that grin off your face.”

Alyna laughed at her, pulling Anora in for a deep kiss, then gasped as Anora slid two fingers inside of her. Her hands flitted across the seam of her robe, letting it fall completely open and pressing her small breasts together. “ _Here_ ,” she commanded. Anora gratefully accepted, taking the elf’s small pink nipple between her lips. At Alyna’s coo of pleasure Anora bit down, turning the coo into a yelp. She smirked up at Alyna, and the other woman twisted her hands through Anora’s hair and drew the queen’s head down below her waist. Alyna’s hips bucked a the first touch of Anora’s tongue, and the queen pressed her arm across the elf’s hips to keep her in place. “ _Beauty_ yes!” Alyna cried.

A sharp rap echoed from the outer door. “My queen? Are you all right?”

“Not _now_ , Ser Cauthrien!” Anora snapped.

“You are wound up tight, aren’t you?” Alyna stifled another cry as Anora captured her clitoris between two fingers and ran her tongue up and down the exposed flesh. Alyna’s hips bucked as best she could under Anora’s arm, desperate for more sensation. Anora gave her what she sought, licking, sucking and nipping at Alyna’s clitoris with vigor until the elf quaked uncontrollably, biting her fist to suppress an outright scream.

Anora sat back and watched Alyna find herself. “Not smiling now, are you?”

Alyna pulled herself to her feet, shucking off her robes entirely. Anora began to rise, but the elf pressed her hand against Anora’s forehead, keeping her on her knees. On legs still unsteady from her orgasm circled around Anora, crouching behind her, trapping Anora’s crouching form between her thighs. One hand searched under the disheveled layers of Anora’s gown, the other found her breast and squeezing experimentally. Alyna pressed herself to Anora’s back, and with slow deliberateness bit down on the back of Anora’s neck possessively. “It’s a tragedy when a queen hides from herself,” she whispered into Anora’s ear. Alyna held the queen tight as her fingers began to work between Anora’s thighs, slipping two fingers inside and letting the palm of her hand slide over the clit.

“Oh please,” Anora gasped, her hips rocking involuntarily.

Alyna kept her pace, and nipped at Anora’s ear. “How long has it been for you?” Anora’s only answer was a wordless whine of desperation, and Alyna chuckled. “You _poor_ thing. It’s all right, Anora. Let go.” Anora began quivering at the very core of her being, clutching at Alyna’s thighs and biting her lip to prevent a scream that would send Ser Cauthrien and every other guard in the palace running. “You don’t have to be in charge all the time, Anora. Let go.”

The wave crashed over Anora, throwing her clear of Alyna’s ministrations. She lay on the floor, dazed and panting, staring at the ceiling and astonished by her own reckless abandon. Rough hands on her shoulder and hip rolled her onto her back, and Alyna laid her body along Anora’s. “That was…”

“Incredible, I know,” the elf replied. “Soldier’s Peak?”

Wheels began turning in Anora’s mind. Had all this just been to manipulate her? Well, it didn’t matter, she was content to let the Warden have the cursed fortress even before their encounter. “Yours,” she said, collecting herself. Alyna kissed her again, deeply, and it was as much a reward as it was an acceptance of the agreement. The Warden began to pull away, and Anora caught her arm. “And when will you report to Vigil’s Keep?”

“Within the fortnight,” Alyna brought herself to her feet, seeking her discarded robe. Anora forced herself to listen to her words rather than lose herself in the curves of the elf’s back. Alyna glanced over her shoulder, noticing Anora’s gaze and posing for a moment, letting herself be seen. “I’ve a stop to make first. But don’t worry, you’ll have your Warden-Commander and your Orlesians kept in check.”

“Of course,” Anora rose, suddenly conscious of her exposed breasts, tousled gown and tousled hair. She set about putting herself back in order, and summoned up her courage to ask: “Will I see you again? Privately?”

Alyna chuckled, and at her cavalier attitude Anora’s irritation flared again. “As Arlessa, I believe I’m required to attend any Landsmeet.” She turned back to the queen, kissing her chastely on the cheek. “Other than that…we’ll see.” With that she was gone, leaving Anora alone with the embers of her lust.

*

It was cold as ever outside Soldier’s Keep, and Alyna wreathed herself in fire as she crossed the ramparts from the fortress proper to Avernus’ tower. She remembered a few short months ago when she, Alistair, Morrigan and Zevran battled their way across this very bridge, destroying demons that possessed the bodies of long-dead Wardens. She remembered Morrigan’s pragmatism, arguing that there destroying the ancient mage now would only mean that the lives destroyed for his research would truly have been for naught. She remembered ordering Avernus to continue, provided that it did not cost any more lives.

Alyna pushed open the doors to Avernus’ tower, her eyes glancing towards the ceiling as she felt his alarm wards trigger. She made her way up, eventually reaching the mage’s cavernous laboratory. As ever he stood before his workbench pouring over his notes, but he spared her a look of irritation at the interruption.

Producing a small blade from her robes, Alyna sliced a gash across her palm. She held the hand outstretched, allowing a small globe of blood to take shape. “Tell me _everything_ ," she demanded.


End file.
